


Hereditary

by Tea_Queen_2112



Series: The Maze and Hay Hideout. [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive Parents, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, Past Child Abuse, Riddler - Freeform, Scarecrow - Freeform, Scriddler, Slow Burn, Understanding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22311235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tea_Queen_2112/pseuds/Tea_Queen_2112
Summary: Jonathan and Edward go to the hospital to visit Edward's ailing father. As words are exchanged Jon learns more about the enigmatic redhead and his past.  Sequel to Hold the Celebration.
Relationships: Jonathan Crane/Edward Nygma
Series: The Maze and Hay Hideout. [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1605940
Comments: 4
Kudos: 52





	Hereditary

“I have many veins but my blood runs cold. I shake but no have no warmth. I think I am strong but despite my falls I easily tear. What am I?” 

Edward would have laughed at such a childish riddle. 

They were sitting in the waiting area of the hospital room. There was the buzz of patients coming in and out, medical machinery and nurses. Jonathan decided to lighten the depressing mood of it all by telling a riddle of all things. Edward had spent the last week thinking of riddlers and Jonathan came up with one on the spot. Edward gave a half-hearted answer. 

“A leaf.” Edward guessed.

Jonathan tsked. “Wrong.”

“I’m not wrong.”

“The answer is you, Ed.”

Edward scoffed. He had taken it as an insult. It was like a half insult. He turned his head away from Jonathan and Jonathan muttered under his breath. 

“You shouldn’t have to come with me if all you’re going to do is be an asinine child.”

“I thought a riddle would be a stimulant for you, Edward. I apologize if it wasn’t.” Nygma saw from the perspective of Crane. That would make sense for someone with Crane’s method of thinking. He was good at picking up the little details. And more so manipulating them. He shrugged as a half-hearted apology. Edward didn’t even look at Jonathan as he shrugged. He kept on looking down the hallway. To room 103. The room was where the devil was waiting. 

“In any other circumstance, it would be.”

The little details. Edward suddenly considering something he hadn’t before. Crane was going to witness information he’d kept private from the prying eyes of Gotham City. Most of the rogues knew he’d arrived in Gotham in his older teen years but they knew very little of his life before it. Jon had the inkling, Edward saw that in Crane’s light brown eyes. 

Then again Edward also possessed knowledge of Mrs Abigail Crane. The fear matriarch and the only woman the Scarecrow cowered before. An equal trade of sorts. Only now the trade was tipping in favour of Jonathan. 

Jonathan had been looking at his own leather-bound journal until he decided to glance over to Edward. Concern spread over his face as saw Edward’s nails beginning to catch the skin on the back of his hand leaving thin red lines. He waited a couple of moments to see if Edward would catch on to what he was doing. 

He didn’t. 

Turning up the intensity of his scratches the more he got lost in his thoughts. 

Jonathan grabbed his hand, holding his fingers closed tightly together. Edward’s eyes meeting Jonathan’s. Eddie for a moment forgot everything as he focused in on them. The focus was good. Focus kept him sane. Focusing in on Jonathan’s features. His eyes, his strong nose and his cheeks. 

“Nashton.” The nurse called from in front of them. 

“Oh.” Edward was up like a shot, torn away from the tender moment. “I’m here for Nashton.” 

The nurse told them to follow her. By some miracle, she didn’t recognise either of them. Her eyes questioned for a moment but simply dismissed that it simply couldn’t be the case. Perhaps she had simply been focused on the intimate gesture.

“Nashton?” Jonathan asked, his eyebrow raised a little. 

Eddie shot Jonathan a look that made him shut up. Jonathan couldn’t help but snicker. 

As the nurse lead both of them to the room Eddie shifted closer to Jonathan, walking somewhat behind him, almost clipping his heels a few times to Jonathan’s annoyance. 

The nurse let them in and they saw the man before them. Eddie furrowing his brow as he somewhat expected something different. Jonathan somehow knowing exactly what he’d been expecting his father to look like. Eddie was still standing while Jonathan decided to leave them to their business. 

Jonathan took a seat in the corner of the room, keeping his notebook in hand. The seat that seemed to be designated to people who vaguely knew the person. Distant aunts and grandchildren and such. Jonathan made sure he avoided hospital rooms since his grandmother took the fall that took her life. Poor thing took a fright on the staircase and cracked her neck on the way down. 

Jonathan empathised with Edward’s situation well. Seeing the person who controlled you looking helpless. It was unusual. He doubted that this man would be as dangerous as Abigail so he sat back. 

Edward was a grown man and his father lay before him withering

“Eddie. You there. Come on in my boy.” The man was trying to beckon him over like a dog. This pathetic man with bandages wrapping around his head. 

“Father.” Eddie stood away from the bed. 

“That any way to greet your old man after all this time. Come sit by your dad.”

Hesitantly he came closer by about an inch. The man smelled clean for once in his life. There was a point where you couldn’t go near him without the smell of ash engulfing him. Liquor as well. Since then, Edward had done the research and he was clean. Allegedly. Then again it might have just been his hospitalisation and therefore lack of access. 

The man’s face turned to the side and both men could finally see the man’s face. 

Jonathan saw the glassy look in his right eye. Jonathan saw it before in patients. A classic symptom of cataracts. Only affecting one eye though. Edward had a similar reaction. The man somehow looked more ghastly then he did all those years ago.

“How’s your life been? Haven’t seen you in a while.” His father asked him nonchalantly. 

“That’s what you’ve called me here for? A catch-up. It’s been over fifteen years.” It had been well over fifteen years. More on the side of twenty if Edward was correct. Time meant nothing in Gotham City. Every other week a supervillain tried rising to power and every other week they were beaten by the bat. An endless cycle. Still, all that time and yet his childhood still felt fresh. 

“I’ve realised something.” His father spoke. 

The man had captured both of their attention. Edward digging his fingers into his arms as he prepared himself. Jonathan tapping his three fingers in a repetitive motion on the arm of the chair. Edward stopping upon hearing the noise. Even though he'd only been there for 5 minutes he could tell Jonathan was going to be a lifesaver. His knight in patchwork armour. 

Edward waited for him to continue on. The noise of the heart monitor covering his unease. 

“I wasn’t the best dad.”

“You weren’t…”

The man in the bed cleared his throat.

“I propose that we put the whole debacle behind us. As long as you apologize for cheating in school I’ll apologize for not being as good as I should have been.”

Edward hadn’t been expecting him to say that. Neither was Jonathan if he was being perfectly honest. He saw his tone of voice as being genuine. Abusers would often make their victims feel inferior but this one was seemingly cutting right to the chase. 

“Your mother can fix this.” The father spoke. 

“My mother.” Edward sounded tender at the mention of his mother. All the expectations he had were shattered. 

The woman scarecrow knew so little about yet still somehow got an idea. An ill woman that Edward had falsely idolized as being the lesser of the two evils. Edward's happy little family. 

“And your sister too. We can all go to the fair. The flying Greyson’s are in town.” 

The man’s expressions were glazed over, to say the least. Edward was at a loss for words, putting a hand over his mouth, unable to make heads or tails of the situation. His stomach was threatening to void its contents. So far he'd had a general plan of how things were to go but in so few words his father had thrown those plans into the fire. Shredded his strategy.

Being unable to look at him for much longer he turned back to Jonathan, who had stopped his scribbling and was looking at him with his arms and legs crossed pointedly. “You never told me you had a sister,” Jonathan remarked.

“He’s delusional. I never had a sister. And my mother died when I was seven. Father blamed me of course.” Edward didn’t realise that he’d overshared until he saw Jonathan’s expression from the corner of his eye. Edward closed his lips. Not even allowing himself to breathe. He couldn't have Jonathan knowing things...It would change his perception of him and right now he liked where they were. Friends out of friendship and not out of pity. 

The man was still rambling on about nonsense. 

“The cancer. You said it was in his brain. Perhaps it’s affecting his memory.” Jonathan suggested. 

The presumption was probably correct.

“Father. What do you remember?” Edward played with his hat as he asked it, clenching it tightly. If he didn't remember then perhaps this was a chance for a clean slate. To mould him into the father he wished he'd had growing up. Not the one who beat him bloody while making social services look the other way. 

“I don’t remember much but I do know that we are the same. You’re a chip off the old block”

The hat became scrunched into a tiny ball. Edward kept his composure and continued the conversation as any normal person would. He ran a hand through his hair, turning back to look at Jonathan. Once he got the nod of approval that he was doing okay he turned to answer. 

“We are not. You’re...I’m...I don’t know. I won't be like you.” 

“No. You will. Hell in the next couple of years you’ll be where I am right now. I have a good family and a nice house. You should visit with your kids. If you have any. You should have settled down already you useless boy. Still, it’ll be just like it was. You, me and your mother.”

The very thought struck a chord in Edward that he hadn’t considered before. His beautiful perfect mind deteriorating. Impossible! Edward was healthy a majority of the time and did all he could to keep his mind healthy. Oily fish 4 times a week, crosswords and always drink one cup of water in the morning if he remembered. All of those things would be worthless if genetics came into play. If he developed the condition there would be little he could do to stop it.

Jonathan studied Edwards’s features as he turned to him for support. Jonathan stopped scribbling in his book. He mouthed to Edward reminding him that he had to breathe. A simple nod from the name and he turned back to the bedridden man. The whole scene was fascinating so far but as a psychologist, he had to remember his patient's needs before his own. Despite the Scarecrow in his head telling him otherwise. 

“I will never be like you. I am far superior.” 

Jonathan rolled his eyes. Even with a man on his deathbed Edward still had to be the smartest one in the room. Yet this time he supposed it was deserved. The man in question was beginning to earn his reputation. 

As a part of his studies as a University professor, he once set a research task on how people’s voices changed with feelings of fear or anger. The man before him was exhibiting the first tonal change that came. Jonathan ever so subtly putting his book back in his satchel. As a precaution of course. 

“I was a child and you left me to fend for myself. You always accused me of being an idiot. Well, look at me now father. I’m not. I could tell you a million things I’ve done you couldn’t hold a candle to. Mother...You know what you did to her. I hate you. You and everyone else in that neighbourhood.”

A palpitation went in his little southern heart. While Edward’s fear had been delicious seeing his confidently telling off his father was riveting. The often cocky Riddler replaced with the real Edward Nygma. And it was intriguing. All this time Jonathan thought he knew the man clad in green but this vulnerability added a different perspective. Such bloody raw human emotion. 

While Edward was thriving his father began to return to the image of what he imagined. His face turning into something wicked. The way a man gets when he's about to become violent. 

“You...hate me? I let you live under my fucking roof and this is how you repay me. I’m dying for Christ sake. You didn't even bring me a gift or anything. How pathetic are you?” 

Something about Edward’s back talk sparked a memory. A deep childhood memory when Edward was taken to the hospital by his mother. His mood-altering within a snap of his fingers. His father hadn't liked that he didn’t check with them beforehand. If they didn’t check beforehand they would get the backhand. Edward had talked back after his father slapped his mother. 

“It wasn’t under your roof. I was left on my own. Sometimes with others who took pity. That man...” Eddie using his forearms to apply pressure to his abdomen. 

“They tolerated you better than I could. Your only use was making the rent cheaper. Suppose it was worth having you around for that. Now say you’re sorry and I’ll forgive you. We can spend the rest of my days in some fucking peace.”

Jonathan was still sitting behind Edward but from the way his body tensed he could tell Edward was in a total state of shock. Jonathan would laugh at how ridiculous he would act whenever he assumed the Batman was cheating but this was a different kind of shock. The kind that he’d seen on some of his most fearful students. As if he just dropped a bombshell. Jonathan didn’t like the word choice. Whether it was implying what he was thinking or something less vulgar he would find out. 

He saw where Edward got certain traits from yet the hold this man had on Edward. Edward still seemed rigid but he got closer to the man. 

“You beat me black and blue and yet you say you want to make it better. You want me to apologize. I won’t.”

“I wasn’t that bad. Your mother wasn’t the best mom. Blame that whore and everything will be ok.”

Eddie snapped.

“She was better than you. And she was an alcoholic. At least she remembered to feed me. Took me to the hospital when I got chemical burns inside my throat.” He held his hand just below his neck where the burns must have been. Jonathan was a little bit slower writing down that part. His eyes never leaving Edward once. Jonathan could work out the dates in his head. 

Edward was so busy beginning to spill his guts that he didn’t see the way his father’s eyes lit up with remembrance. Luckily for him Jonathan had taken notice. Jonatan grabbed the arm of the chair and leaned forward. Edward just had to keep running his stupid mouth. 

Edward did no longer hold back. On his 16th birthday, he’d left a note on the apartment door and never looked back. He still remembered the express bus he’d taken to Gotham. The only place a young man like himself could get an apartment for cheap. The bus smelled like sick, the mother of young crying twins and the heat was unbearable. The best ride that Edward had ever taken. 

Since then it has been the best and worst times of his life. He didn’t want to have to turn to cybercrime. Originally hacking and black-market information was just a way of affording his rent and medication but then it became the thrill of the hunt. From an escape, to revenge to excitement. The Riddler was born. In a way, the man had created the best and worst parts of Edward.

His father sat up on the bed properly after the resting he’d been doing, deciding that he had enough strength. Edward was easily the stronger of the two but in his current state, there was little he could do as his father grabbed him by the green lapels of his jacket. 

The man ripped the I.V needle out of his hand as he got up out of his bed. Grabbing Edward and delivering a swift fist to his face, knocking him over like he was that scrawny little boy with the green jumper. Edward fell onto his back and looked up to the older man, the beeping filling up the room. The scene was all too familiar. Only this time it wasn't the run-down house with the awful quilts. His mother's alcohol bottles lying around the room and the fathers empty cigarette packets thrown carelessly on the side of the bin. 

Jonathan was up in an instant. The man was only able to land two more blows on Edward before he lost his balance. Edward crossing his arms above himself to protect his face. He wished he’d had his cane with him, something to beat off the idiotic brute. His mind wouldn’t focus even when the man was no longer a threat. 

Jonathan heroically broke the older man’s grip, holding him back while Edward scrambled away to the side. Three nurses came dashing into the room came between the arguing people two holding the man back while the third, alongside Jonathan, helped Edward to his feet. Had the nurses not been there Jonathan might 

Jonathan held out his hand to help Edward up. Edward didn’t take Jonathan’s hand. At least not for a couple of seconds. Their hands met and Jonathan could have recoiled from the icy feeling of Edward’s palm. Jonathan gave a reaffirming grip, Edward’s confusion becoming clear. 

The nurses calmed the man down while the doctor ushered Edward and Jonathan outside. 

Edward caught his breath outside of the room. Jonathan placing a hand tenderly on his back. Only by a hair was he avoiding a panic attack. He kept on rubbing his throat in a way that tried to sooth it. Only making it worse. The doctor looked back through the square glass window to room 103. The nurses had him mostly under control. Something about the presence of the two must-have enraged him beyond a doubt. The nurse was truly shocked at what had gone down. Never a boring day on the job. 

“I’m so sorry Mr Nashton. When he asked us to call you I assumed mentally he was doing ok. He’s never shown any behaviour like that before. It’s perhaps an increase in violence. With the tumour and all. Will you be alright?” The doctor scrambled for her excuses but Edward’s tiredness showed. His sigh told them both everything. 

“You couldn’t have known. I should have known better than to accept the call. That tumour made him docile. Tell your nurses to be careful. We are leaving Jonathan. Thank you but I’ll be fine.” He walked away from her briskly and Edward only turned around when he didn’t feel someone walking beside him. 

“Aren’t you coming to the car?” He asked Jon. 

“I’m going to get a drink from the machine. Do you want anythi-?”

Edward already walked on. Jonathan rolled his eyes for a couple of seconds before heading back in the direction of room 103.

He entered the old man’s room, standing in the doorway. The man didn’t look up at first assuming he was another nurse. The nurses had made quick work of putting the I.V back in and now he looked like he’d gotten a good telling off from the head nurse. The man was sour when it became clear it was Jonathan. 

“You again? Fuck off you bastard. I've had enough for one day.”

Jonathan always had a certain way of despising abusers but this man was quite possibly one of the more loathsome ones. 

“He was a child. An older man blaming all his problems on a child.”

Abusers were the lowest form of life. He got his thrill from fear out of phobias not out of abuse. In his university days, Jonathan rarely had to deal with such matters but he recalled on a girl in particular. He'd marked her essay poorly. 34%. A normally high regarded student getting a lower mark was a cause for concern on its own but whenever Jonathan noted a yellow coloured mark on her wrist he got involved. The girl's boyfriend had been in the mood for sex and she was busy trying to do her essay. Unfortunately, the boyfriend had gotten what he wanted in the end. One thing lead to another but Jonathan made sure the boy never walked on campus again. The catatonic boy he became known as. Laying there miserably unable to hurt anyone ever again. 

“Sarah died. It was his fault. If he didn’t come out wrong she wouldn’t have gone and died. She didn't fucking do anything useful but she was better than him.” The man said bitterly. 

The bottle was calling to him. Begging Jonathan to use him on this piece of worthless scum. The fear concoction would fit just nicely into his bloodstream. Jonathan often had a calm disposition about himself. How he kept the illusion of control. Perhaps one of the only times he considered losing it in favour of animalistic violence. 

“Your wife died because you were beating her and one day she’d had enough.” 

The man coughed and put his head back down on the pillow while still keeping eye contact with the master of fear. The man was growing tired of all these little people coming in and telling him lies. He spat onto the floor right beside Jonathan's shoe. Jonathan looked at it rather bored before coming closer to the right-hand side of the bed. Where the man's I.V was hanging. 

“No, I only beat her because she was never home. Always out with her bitch friends. She wanted away from that spazzy freak. What now his little boyfriend has come back to defend him? How pathetic. He’s no son of mine.”

The man hated his son with a passion. He only beat him because it was what he deserved. A cheating child was no good. A pathetic boy who never knew any better. Jonathan noted that he had begun to clench his fist, likely thinking about the two people who ruined his life. 

With those words, the old man had sealed his fate. Jonathan took the small bottle out of his pocket. He held it in his hand and considered how one of his finest works was in such a tiny bottle. If anything it looked like a small glass of orange juice. The formula was still in his lab. At the intervention of the batman, he’d only gotten enough of the chemical to make a 20ml bottle. This was a weapon of mass destruction and he held it in the palm of his hand. Still getting the main ingredient took far too much effort to even begin getting into. 

Now he was using it on an old man he barely knew. 

“You did this. Now reap the consequences.”

The I.V swirled orange for a moment before turning once again clear. He had been intending to use this a little bit later on but he supposed this was a good use as any. If he was right it would only take a couple of minutes before it would set in, more than enough time for them to get away without suspicion. 

Or so he had hoped. 

As he walked to the entrance he could hear the nurse calling for assistance in room 103. A code red she called it. Jonathan only turned around one last time to see three nurses wheeling equipment. He smirked knowing it would be useless for them to save him now. He would live...Just not without fear. 

Jonathan’s excursion had only taken about 7 minutes in total. He came back to their car. And looked through the tinted window to see Edward inside.

The dashboard had a sizable dent in it. Nothing that Jervis couldn’t fix. After all the man had technically been an engineer before is madness took him over. Jonathan got into the driver’s side gently as to not disturb him too much. 

Edward’s face was drained of colour. His tie pulled out of its perfectly tied knot, this top two shirt buttons undone. He’s used the spare pen and paper that he kept in the glove box to write down some riddles in an attempt for his brain to stop feeling like it was burning.

The redhead was resting lifelessly on the window, his eyes looking at nothing in particular. 

“Well, I know where you get your metabolism from.”

“Don’t.” Edward didn’t bother looking up. The voice sounded so tired. Jonathan looked down at the wheel suddenly regretting making the joke. 

“What he said...It isn’t true. It’s a classic trick abusers use. A quite useful fear tactic that they utali-” 

“Don’t. Jonathan.”

The man remained quiet.

The drive was uneventful. The radio accompanied by an undertone of uneasy breathing. The driver cranking down the passenger side window from his side, the fresh air would do him good. The warm air tangling in the ginger’s locks. It ground Edward back into his reality. For the first time during the ride, Edward showed his haggard face. “I got you something. For helping me today.”

Edward handed over what seemed to be an orange to go coffee cup. Pumpkin spice as he had promised him earlier. A joke brought to fruition. Jonathan thought that the drink was overrated for his personal tastes but still he might as well get something out of this day. Considering what he gave up to be there. 

He went to take a sip instead of liquid it seemed a large solid dropped against the lid. With one hand he opened the cup. 

A medicine bottle. Corticotrophin to be precise. A very rare and useful element of many of his more potent fear toxins. He swirled it around to make sure it was the real deal. It looked glossy and clear against the light. “Remarkable. I’ll find some way to work it into my plans.”

“When I was...cleaning I found your notes and saw that. I thought you might need some. I know it's terribly tricky to attain.”

Jonathan set the bottle in the little compartment. The Riddler never skimped on his research that was for certain. 

“How did you get it if you don’t mind me asking?” 

The toxin was rare, even more so in Gotham. In fact the closet manufacturer would be in Ace chemicals but they kept it under lock and key. The only bottle they had was guarded by the highest security system. He had planned on getting Selina’s help with the thing but now it seemed he didn’t have to. 

“Robots posing as a guard. Human features I’ve been tinkering with. You put me through hell trying to get it.”

“But it was only yesterday, I agreed to go to the hospital with you. You had this beforehand?”

“And if I did? An early birthday present.”

Jonathan hid his smile, knowing fully well Edward knew his birthday was in September. Still, all of this was deflecting. Jonathan was now beginning to process all the words that had been shared between the father and son. The unloaded trauma. Things Jonathan found to be intriguing. A little dip into his mind wouldn’t be so bad, would it? 

“Thank you. What did he mean if you don't mind me asking?”

“About what? If you forgot to pay attention he said a lot.” And he also said a lot of stuff that he shouldn’t have. 

He considered it. “The rent? Chemical burns? Anything you want to talk about.”

Jonathan wanted him to talk. In the way he made it sound significant. Jonathan had gotten all these little tidbits of information yet they still didn't come together to make the full story. The burns he was particularly interested in. 

“Oh that...I got a job. The burns were nothing important.”

Jonathan knew he was lying one hundred percent. To push it now would be foolish. His curiosity wouldn’t be satiated but he could find out another time. 

Edward would talk the ear of him and then some. The quiet Edward was something he didn’t take kindly to. It was like a missing tooth that didn’t quite feel right. Edward wasn’t wearing his hat. He didn’t even make a sound when Jonathan went right through an obvious red light, something Edward would be vocal about before. 

“Are you hungry?”

Edward took a couple of seconds to answer him. 

“Ravenous.”

“I ordered food before we left. It’ll be ready by the time we arrive.”

His hand went to his stomach. The days of living off only coffee and gum catching up to him. Pain. Not like someone had hit him but genuine hunger. Normally he’d been able to repress it but he was thankful for Jonathan’s foresight. Jonathan was so clever in that way.

“As rare as a raven’s feather. One is hard to find, even harder to keep. Kings have thousands while many have one. One is all that’s needed to change the world. What am I?”

Jonathan hadn’t heard this riddle. It wasn’t his fault but he had a particularly bad habit of repeating his riddles. A sort of way that made him feel comfortable. A new one was good to see as his pseudo psychologist. 

“I don’t know Edward.”

“A good man.” 

Jonathan Crane rarely cracked a smile. His grandmother was a sour woman so he didn't have the chance to learn. Jonathan did think he’d ever smiled in front of Edward before. His riddles always truly and deeply infuriated him. This was the exception. Edward had been tense, he didn’t even need to see his self-inflicted pinches to know that his whole aura was giving off stress. 

“I’m stupid.” He said it softly. 

Jonathan almost didn’t hear it at first. He looked at Edward who repeated it again to himself like a mantra. 

“What? Is it because of what he said? If so don’t be so dull Edward. Don’t give him that much credit.” Jonathan told him. 

“No. I just-How could I be so stupid as to think he’d be any different now? Why was I so stupid as to think he’d change?”

There was what Scarecrow had been waiting for. The eventual breakdown. Edward hid his face in his hands. The shame of letting his stone-cold walls crumbling so shamefully. Jonathan was thankful that there seemed to be a little break in the traffic. The stop allowing him to collect his thoughts. 

“None of that is your fault. None of anything he or anyone else did was your fault. And you’re not wrong for having hope.”

Edward’s body was still rife with tension. Jonathan didn’t think physical contact would help him right now. He had lost his composure, crying so deeply that he didn’t produce any sound. Jonathan didn’t go through years of University, gain a position as head of psychology to watch it gain dust. As much as he found Edward an annoyance he still somewhat cared for the man. 

“I was at fault for what happened with my grandmother. I was such an insolent child. Playing with worms and snakes. Unfitting for a boy of my age. I deserved her beatings. Being locked in a cupboard. Watching as my mother die was the most vivid memory.”

Edward stopped in his frustration and answered him. 

“You were a child Jonathan. You-you had no control over the situation. What were you meant to do?”

The trick worked like a charm. 

“So were you. You father failed you Edward. Every grown up in your life failed you as it did me. You owe him nothing. And to be frank he deserves to spend the rest of his days in a hell filled coma.”

Eddie was desperate to reply. To kick and scream and call out Jonathan for manipulating him but alas he couldn’t for every word out of his mouth was hurtful truth. Edward was smart even as a child and he should have known so many more things than he did. All the way through the hospital visit he’d somehow managed to act as collected as his Riddler persona. He was no longer in the damned hospital. 

He held his head in his hands as his body shivered. The mighty and brilliant Riddler reduced to tears in the Scarecrows car. The press would have a field day. Edward despised photos that humiliated him. He wouldn’t let anything like that happen again.

Another thing he couldn’t understand. Why Jonathan was being decent. He didn’t deserve his kindness. He was well aware his attitude could be perceived as annoying to others yet this lanky man still did all of that for him. The man kept on looking at him but Edward didn’t know why. Probably because he was so pathetic.

Edward wept silently in the car, taking tissues from the pack he kept in his pocket. Jonathan found crying interesting. He preferred screaming personally yet crying had a subtlety about it. Like a fine wine accompanying a fine main course. Still all this time something bothered him. He still enjoyed seeing the array of emotion on Edward throughout the day but at the same time...it wasn’t alright. 

In any other circumstances, he would have recorded his misery but seeing him weakened like this. It wasn't ideal, to say the least. In fact, it disheartened him rather drastically. 

He returned the tissue, Jonathan not missing the subtle speck of red on the discarded tissue. It had been roughly 7 minutes of driving and now Edward was beginning to sober up.

“Upon reflection, I’m glad I did it. I know there’s no way we could fix the relationship and he hasn’t changed. I don’t have to feel about him dying. I...admit I could not have done it without your assistance.”

Jonathan held a hand over Edward’s knee. Edward gave him the nod of approval and Jonathan gently placed his hand on his knee, reassuringly. 

“The sentiment is appreciated. How about we watch a movie with the food? I may regret saying this but I’ll let you pick. You had the rougher day.” Jonathan wisely suggested. 

He thought for a moment. Jonathan prayed it was something he would bear with. As long as it wasn’t one of those bloody history documentaries that went on for four hours. 

“Hereditary.”

Jonathan spluttered. An unusual choice for Edward. Jonathan had seen the types of movies he watched. Edward was like a broken record in the way that he only played the same type of movie. Almost always detective movies. Never horror. The most horror he could ever stomach was Se7en. Even then he would get queasy at certain bits. Like the part where it showed the crime of lust and sloth. Jonathan remembered fondly one time Edward saw the scene and ended up gagging loudly. 

“I didn’t think you liked it.”

“I haven’t seen it. But I know you have and thoroughly enjoy it. Besides I’ve heard it’s a mentally stimulating film.”

“Take out and a movie.” A perfect night in.

Jonathan glanced over to Edward. His small smile still laced with his emotions from earlier. Though it was slowly getting better. Jonathan felt his soul resonating as he looked at Edward. He focused back on the road when he realised his glancing was turning into staring. As a psychologist, he knew feelings well. His own still eluded him. Only a couple times in the past had he gotten the feeling from something that wasn’t fear-related. The buzzing in his brain. 

Perhaps he could get this feeling a lot more around him.

**Author's Note:**

> Edward's past has been explained vaguely but it isn't the full picture. When Jonathan finds out the extent it gets deeper into the rabbit hole. And where do chemical burns come into play? Place your bets now. Stay tuned. Same bat time same bat channel.


End file.
